


Simple Words Hurt

by TheSparrow93



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Friendship/Love, Loss, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSparrow93/pseuds/TheSparrow93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world so screwed up what is there left to treasure? Are our memories our greatest prizes? Or our worst nightmares? Very slight, almost nonexistent Daryl/Glenn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Words Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from to be honest. It is just something that popped into my head one day and wouldn't go away. I changed a few things because, well it's fiction and I can :P
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Moments of peace had become few and far between. So when one should arise it was cherished.

The group had been on the Greene farm for a week when they were finally able to take a moment to catch their breath. Everyone was gathered around the fire, dinner settling in their stomach. No one was on watch as of yet, the group taking in the moment of calm.

Glenn looked around the group taking everyone in. Lori and Carl cuddled up to Rick. Shane right at Rick's side. Dale was sitting next to Andrea who was looking more content than he had seen her in ages. T-Dog was lounging with a small smile on his lips. Maggie having joined them was relaxing easily with the group. Carol had Sophia huddled against her, the girl only being returned for a few days. Daryl was next to him, poking the fire to keep it roaring their thighs bumping warmly from time to time. They were all together and safe, even if only for a few hours.

"Let's do something. Play a game or something." Glenn said happily.

"Sure, like what?" Dale said.

"I don't know something that will help us get to know each other better." Glenn suggested.

"Good idea. I mean, we have lived together for months and we barely know anything about each other." Andrea said.

"How about we each say what our most prized possession is?" Maggie offered, "You know, what you treasure most now and why."

"That's great! Who's first?" Glenn asked. There was a pause, no one really wanting to be first.

"I'll go," Dale said, "My RV, because it was my wife and mines. We spent so many good times in that old rust bucket." He said with a smile, a few aww's rippling through the group.

"Me next," Maggie piped up, "It's pearl earrings my mama gave me before she died."

"That's so sweet," Lori said with a smile, "Mine is our photo albums, I'm so glad I grabbed them. It's like looking back on a different universe but I know I lived it." More aww's.

"Mine is dad's hat because he gave it to me for being big and tough like him." Carl said making everyone laugh as he readjusted the too large hat on his head.

"Well, if the photo albums and my hat are taken," Rick said causing more chuckles, "Besides my family I would have to say the python." Rick said with a grin.

"We all prize that man," Shane said getting a shove from Rick, "My necklace, I guess, high school memento."

"My gun, it was a gift from my dad." Andrea said softly, there was a moment of silence.

"My doll because Eliza gave it to me." Sophia piped up breaking the silence and the tension. Carol hugged her tighter and they all knew that was her answer.

"My mom's cookbook, she gave it to me years ago when she got sick, breast cancer, "T-Dog said smiling, "She put all these notes on the recipes on how to make them better."

"That's so sweet." Carol said softly squeezing his uninjured arm.

"My turn?" Glenn asking getting expectant nods, "I don't have much but if I had to pick I would say my backpack. That thing comes in handy." Glenn said with a grin and wave of chuckles. Everyone looked over at Daryl but he just sat poking at the fire.

"Your turn Daryl." Dale said with a smile.

"Didn' say I was gonna play." Daryl said tossing the stick he was using into the flames.

"Come on, everyone else went." T-Dog teased good-naturedly.

"So?" He asked casually.

"Don't be a spoil sport." Shane said, "I bet we can guess it. It's your crossbow right?" Daryl said nothing.

"Your knife?" Andrea asking getting silence as her answer.

"Merle's bike?" Rick asked getting more silence.

"Sleeveless shirts?" Maggie asked making the group laugh but Daryl still said nothing.

"What is it, Daryl?" Glenn asked. Daryl sighed before picking up the satchel by his feet.

"It's two things." Daryl said rummaging in the bag. A chorus of 'that's fine's' echoed through the group. Daryl pulled something out of the bag and gently tossed it to the ground before him so everyone could see, pausing as everyone looked.

It was a small square shaped piece of marble.

"What is it?" Shane asked looking down at it.

"A coaster." Daryl said setting his bag down. Glenn reached over and picked it up. It was white with stuff painted on it. There were little diamonds in various colors ranging from red to green on one half, on the other was a handprint that was a deep purple. The hand was small, too small.

"Who gave this to you?" Glenn asked over the sound of Shane teasing Daryl for treasuring something drinks rest on. Daryl said nothing just reached into his back pocket and pulling out an old worn leather wallet. He flipped it open and handed it over to the other man.

Glenn looked at the photo that was nestled in soft leather. The man in the photo was clearly Daryl, though cleaner and better groomed. It was a candid shot. Daryl was holding a box of too sugary cereal in one hand. Perched on his shoulder, little hand stretching for the box was a small boy. Soft blonde air ruffled, eyes locked on the sweets in Daryl's hand while the man's eyes were only looking up at the being resting around his neck.

"This boy?" Glenn said softly letting the wallet be taken from his grasp by another member of the group.

"Was my son." Daryl said softly. The word hit Glenn in the gut like an eighteen wheeler, was. He never knew such a simple word could hurt so much. He looked back down at the tile in his hand, he gently flipped it and all the air in his lungs left him.

'Happy Father's Day, Daddy! I love you.' Was messily scrawled on the back in orange sharpie then down on the corner was crammed '06-20-2010'. June 20th 2010, Father's day, two weeks before the outbreak. In that moment Glenn could just see it.

He was too young; he didn't know how to be a father. It was an accident, a mistake he kept telling himself. He couldn't be a father, he was only twenty-five, he couldn't be someone's father. It was a mistake, he didn't even love Helen, she was just an easy fuck. For nine months he knew it was a mistake, an accident that he didn't want to take responsibility for. He knew it was mistake while he stood by her side as she went through ten hours of labor. He knew it was a mistake when the doctor said she was crowning.

He knew it wasn't a mistake the moment that too shrill cry echoed off the sterile walls. He knew it wasn't an accident the second that small squirming body was held up for them to see and when he cut the cord. He knew he wasn't too young when filthy latex hands handed him a wailing blue blanket covered bundle. He knew he could be someone's father when Helen ditched out of the hospital in the middle of the night, having never held their baby once. He knew he was in love the moment those little baby blue eyes opened and locked on him for the first time.

Little hands reaching out for him as chubby legs took their first wobbly steps. Blonde hair growing thick and long. Blue eyes a perfect match for his own looking up to him. Scraped knees and loose teeth. One hell of a smart little boy. His pride and joy.

'Daddy!' said in a giggle that he could listen to forever. Off key singing to the car radio and bedtime prayers. Crying when his little boy ran into school on the first day of kindergarten, no fear or doubts. Seven birthdays.

Glenn was handed back the wallet and he had to stare again. At the little grin on small lips right under a button nose. The sparkle in happy blue eyes, eyes he had never seen before. He jumped when a tan hand wrapped around the wallet but didn't pull it away. Glenn looked up into blue eyes that were so different from the ones in the photo. In those eyes he could see it like he had been there himself.

Stories on the radio too out-there to believe. Riding to get his boy from his grandma's, Helen's mother, when reports aired for people to stay in their homes. Merle squished in the middle seat of the truck, booster seat set up next to him. Pulling up and hurriedly honking the horn. He can't help noticing a man stumbling down the sidewalk, he looked drunk. A lot of people had been hitting the sauce hard lately due to the news so he gave him little mind.

The little guy being brought out to the porch by a woman too young to be a grandmother. She kisses his head before he takes off to the truck. Smile growing when he spots his uncle crammed in the cab. Sun shine hair bouncing. Stuffed Pikachu clutched in a little fist. The sound of a gleeful giggle floating in the air. Then he saw something out of the counter of his eye. The man staggering down the sidewalk suddenly bolted forward, legs carrying him across the grass. Little legs came to a stumbling halt as the man grew closer.

He yelled the boy's name, Merle echoing the sentiment, as he rushed out of the truck and Merle vaulted his large form out the passenger door. A scream rattled his bones as the little body got pinned under the much larger form of the man. Hands were clawing at short-sleeve bare arms leaving trails of crimson on pale skin. The near hysterical scream of his brother's name had him slightly light headed. Teeth sank into sob fluttering flesh of a delicate neck.

Merle a good few long strides ahead slammed into the crouched body knocking it loose. Another blood chilling scream painted the air as he reached him. Small fists gripped his shirt as he tried to see the wound. Blood was steadily pouring out of the hole in the soft flesh.

Oh god. Oh god! OH GOD! No! He was screaming. Suddenly she was next to him, Helen's mother, trying to help. A dish towel shoved in his hands then presses to the flowing river of red. Her phone wasn't working; no dial tone, no signal on her cell. Nothing.

Merle was beating the man mercilessly. Large heavy fists breaking skin, thick soled boots crushing bones. The sickening crunch of the skull giving under his ministrations.

Baby blue eyes were clouding, hazing over. Skin turning an unnatural ashen color. Little red lips fading to a too dull pink. Breathe coming in heaving gasps.

Don't go. Don't leave me, please. I need you. Please. Oh god baby, please!

She was sobbing at his side, clutching the now crimson toy to her chest. There was nothing they could do. Nothing.

The words were faint, barely there on small shaking lips. I love you, Daddy.

He had heard the sentence a million times and never had it broken his heart before, but in that moment his soul shattered at the wheeze of it. Then…

He was gone. Eyes growing dark as slightly purple eye lids covered them. He shook him desperately but he was limp, unmoving, gone.

No. No. No! NO! He was screaming, she was sobbing harder; Merle was still kicking and cussing. He cradled the small body to his chest, like he had hundreds of times but now it wasn't holding him back, little nose snuggling into his chest.

She tried to make him move but he couldn't. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Blood was still streaming, coating his arms and chest but he couldn't let go.

It was a mistake, an accident, he wasn't ready. He could never be ready to lose his baby. He was supposed to see him grow.

See the preteen middle school years of trying to make himself into somebody. The rough teen years, he was waiting for the argument, hormonal change caused I hate you's. Catching him smoking behind the house and trying to give him a lecture with his own pack burning a hole in his pocket. Seeing that blonde hair bouncing across the graduation stage. Dropping him off at college acting proud and joking to be glad to have the house to himself but crying the whole drive home. Go to the same dive bar his own father took him for his boys' first drink. Meeting all the girl's he would bring home saying she was 'the one' with a grin on his face and the shattered expression when he meets the one that really is. The pride of a wedding day. The awe of his sons' life being complete as he stands at the nursery window by his proud tear choked boy.

But all of that was shattered in the span of five minutes.

She had flagged a man down on the road, he was leaving town car packed with his family and it looked everything he owned. He asked what happened. She said he was killed by a man. He asked how. She choked bitten. They weren't prepared for the man to take two large steps back, fear lacing his features.

Bitten.

The man was clocked across the jaw when he said they had to destroy the brain. Merle looked about to kill the man when she stopped him. Why?

Reports on the news, videos of people eating each other and getting shot in the head. Anchors telling people to protect each other. Merle called him a liar and the man left with one warning. When he comes back, don't hesitate because that will kill them. Merle was spitting and cussing, she was disgusted and he was shocked when he felt something.

A twitch. Then a jerk. He was breathing; it was faint and too haggard. Maybe. Maybe he was alright. Maybe he was wrong and he wasn't gone. That it had all been a mistake, misunderstanding.

Sunken and shadowed eyes opened jerkily. Little limbs twitching. He knew it wasn't a misunderstanding as soon as those eyes turned to him. Pale blue now covered in a white milky film. Jaw snapping, fingers reaching up to him.

Destroy the brain. He didn't even know he said it until she was running into the house sobbing harshly. Merle dropped heavily by his side. Hand eerily still as he extended his hand to him. A sturdy pocket knife resting easily in the open palm. He took it.

Destroy the brain. Make it quick, no pain, no suffering. He deserves better than this. Shit.

The words flowing out of Merle's mouth help him find the strength to open the knife, slightly thrashing body sprawled across his lap.

He doesn't cry when the blade slid under stained golden strands. He doesn't flinch when it sinks home into the base of the too tiny skull, severing the brain stem instantly. His heart doesn't crack open as the little body goes still again, cloudy eyes slipping shut.

Merle's first kill in this new fucked up world is a nameless faceless man in a cheap polyester suit, boot soles holding no mercy.

His first kill was his boy, baby, his mistake and redemption. Borrowed steels easy glide making his blood run colder than the dead that pranced about.

Glenn choked softly on all the emotions bombarding him. He let the smooth leather slide out of his hand, Daryl flipping it shut. His hand is shaking as he returns the coaster. Both stuffed into the satchel, out of sight out of mind, were the worst memories should be.

Memories of a little guy who loved video games and Pokémon. Who loved cheesy Saturday morning cartoons, liked pineapple and bacon on his pizza, thought Jedi's were real and his daddy had to be one of them. Of a first fist fit at school, knuckles blooded by the teeth he knocked loose. The half lecture-half congrats as they drove him home after the sentence of three day suspension was laid down.

"I'm-" Glenn wanted to say something, he knew he needed to say something here but everything sounded stupid in his head.

"A lot like 'im. Y'all woulda been thick as thieves." Daryl said shouldering his bag beside his bow as he started away from the fire, not to his tent or the house or even watch, just going. Glenn glanced around the group; tears were in many people's eyes. Glenn was on his feet after the retreating man when a tear streaked Dale jerked his head from him to go.

"Daryl, wait up." Glenn called softly hurrying to catch up, relieved when the older man stopped for him.

"Yeah?" Daryl asked once Glenn was next to him slightly out of breath.

"Tell me about him." Glenn said calmly, Daryl quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because he was important to you." Was his only answer and that seemed enough for Daryl.

"There's loads to tell, might take a while." Daryl said turning toward his tent.

"I have nothing but time." Glenn said lacing his arms around the now smirking rednecks elbow.

**Author's Note:**

> Was it okay? I really like this but I have doubts.
> 
> Tell me what you think? Was it awful? Review and let me know.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
